Page 14 of Lessons in Sin

‘I need to see you in my office.’

‘Um, okay.’ I mumble.

‘It’s down the corridor. Follow me.’ His words are clinical, cold, and it hurts.

He walks me down a long line of classrooms until we reach his office, the plague on the door detailing his name and specialty – Professor Ryder of Literature. He opens the door with a key before standing back to let me inside. As I pass him, I can feel the heat of his body, the flame stroking something inside of me.

Ignoring the stirring in my core, I take in his office. A few open boxes are strewn carelessly on the floor, each one in a different state of being unpacked. His desk, a large mahogany masterpiece that fits in perfectly with the old feel of the building, sits in the centre of the room. The entire thing is bare, and I’d be a liar if I said my mind doesn’t immediately think of all the things I want him to do to me on that desk.

Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of the thoughts, and walk over to the bookshelves that line the wall behind his desk.

I hear him close the door as I run my finger along the spines of the books, reading each one in turn; Hardy, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Austen, Walker, Atwood …

I let out a shaky breath and without turning I say, ‘Favourite book?’

He says nothing for a moment, the silence between us is like a living thing and then, ‘Did you know?’ The question is low, his voice on a dangerous cliff, teetering between the forced calm in his voice and the possibility of losing control.

‘That’s not how the game works.’ I whisper.

’Scarlett, I swear to fucking—’

I spin around to face him, fire burning in my narrowed eyes. ‘I knew no more than you did!’ My voice trembled with the anger burning a pit inside me. How dare he? How fucking dare he imply such a thing.

Is that what he thinks of me? That I’m some stupid girl who traps her teachers by fucking them.

‘What kind of girl do you think I am?’ I whisper, my voice lethally calm.

‘The kind of girl who lies about her age.’

‘I never told you my age.’

‘Lying by omission is still fucking lying Scarlett.’

Rounding the desk, I stalk towards him, stopping so close to him that I can feel that heat again, that mix of desire and anger and in answer something suspiciously like desire slithers into his eyes, but is gone in an instant.

His body dwarfs’ mine, but I don’t let it deter me. Raising my chin, I snarl at him. ‘I am not some stupid little girl that you can place the blame on here Professor.’ I spit the title at him like an insult, wielding it as if it were a knife. ‘You do not have a right to be pissed at me for this. If my age was such a concern, you should have asked before you fucked my brains out.’

My chest rises and falls in an erratic panting rhythm and for a moment I feel the anger mix with lust, with need until the space between us fizzles. But then he lets out a breathless fuck before collapsing onto one of the chairs opposite his desk. Wracking a hand through his hair, he looks at me and there’s an apology somewhere in those depths.

‘What are we supposed to do here?’ He murmurs, sounding pained. He sounds so at a loss that I sit down on the chair beside him, my anger depleted by the hopelessness of the situation.

My shoulders drop. ‘It’s not like anyone needs to know.’ I say, and I want to shove the words back into my mouth the minute they’re out. I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to sever this thing between us before we even have a chance to find out what it is. But there’s no other option here. No happy ending.

He looks at me beneath lowered lashes, a hint of something in his eyes that gives me hope that I’m not the only one suffering - but it disappears a split second later, making me doubt it was even there in the first place.

‘I think that’s probably best.’

Silence settles between us, as heavy as ink. I bite my lip, the awkward tension between us making me jittery and nervous. His eyes narrow on my lips, but the cold, shuttered gaze gives nothing away.

Standing suddenly, he sighs ‘I should get going. I have a few students to deal with.’

I see the words for the lies they are but nod regardless. He opens the door for me, and I disappear through it, and try to ignore the fact that my heart aches with longing for a man I can never have again.

Chapter 9

‘Hold your form!’ Andre barks as he circles me, surveying my body with the precision of a hawk. Clenching my teeth, I ignore the need to rest, to fall, willing my body to stay in perfect formation until …

‘Good, good … and rest!’

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